Lana'i of the Tiger (The Islands of Aloha Mystery Series)

by JoAnn Bassett

  “Understood.”

  We stared at each other for a couple of seconds and then he clapped his hands together. “So, why don’t I give you a few minutes to look over the list? We don’t have any guests with us this morning, but someone’s checking in later on. Hopefully, by the time he gets here you’ll feel ready to go.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “You want a cup of coffee?” he said. “We’ve got killer coffee.”

  “I had some yesterday with Ewa. It was fabulous.”

  “She’s not supposed to be drinking the stuff.” His eyes narrowed, like he wasn’t at all happy to hear of Ewa’s transgression.

  “No, well actually, I had coffee. She had herbal tea.”

  “Oh, good.” He looked way more relieved than I thought the situation called for.

  We went into the kitchen and I offered to demonstrate my prowess with the coffee bean grinder and the French press. I measured out the Kona beans and ground them for about half a minute. Ewa had clued me in that the coffee needed to be coarsely ground, not finely ground like you use in drip coffee makers. Then I measured two scoops of the coffee into the bottom of the French press. I poured boiling water up to the top and then I watched the clock as I waited exactly three minutes for the coffee to steep. Finally, I slowly lowered the press through the coffee, separating the grounds from the liquid. I poured a small cup of coffee for both of us and watched Darryl’s face.

  “Perfect,” he said after taking a sip. He downed the rest of his coffee in two gulps and stood. “That was great. I’ve got to get going, but Ewa will be up soon to work with you. Until then, why don’t you just relax in here and read over your list?”

  “Sounds good. Nice meeting you, Darryl.” I stood.

  “Back atcha,” he said. We shook hands again. “I’m really glad you showed up, Penny. Must be karma. You need a short-term job, and we need short-term help. Mahalo for taking this on.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  After Darryl left I carefully read over my duty list. Compared to everything involved in coordinating a wedding, it looked like running a bed and breakfast would be a piece of cake.

  ***

  Ewa didn’t make an appearance until almost nine. Even with the late hour, she still looked tired and drawn.

  “I’m so sorry to be such a lazy bum,” she said. “I’m usually up by seven, but lately neither of us is getting any sleep.” She patted her belly as if to let me know it wasn’t Darryl who wasn’t getting his beauty sleep.

  “It must be hard. When is your due date?”

  “Last Saturday.”

  “Oh, so you’re overdue?”

  “No, I’m right on schedule. It’s this little bugger who’s overdue.”

  “They won’t let you go to the hospital now?”

  “The doctor said it’s best to wait until my water breaks or I go into labor. The insurance company doesn’t like women hanging out on their dime if they’re not actually pushing a baby out.”

  “But what if you can’t get there in time?” I sounded panicky. I vowed to dial back the alarm bells a tad.

  “I’ve got a friend here who’s a midwife. She’s assured me if I get into trouble she’ll come over and help.”

  Ewa was way more mellow than I’d have been, given the situation, but then I’ve been accused of being a control freak more times than I can remember.

  “We’ve got a guest who’ll be checking in at four this afternoon,” she said. “Why don’t we go over how you’re going to handle it?”

  I was more than willing to change the subject. “Sounds great.”

  “Let’s talk in the breakfast room,” she said.

  We sat at one of the tiny tables. I drank coffee, she drank herbal tea. She went over greeting the guest, getting his credit card on file, pointing out the room amenities, and so on.

  “He’s our only guest for a few days, so it ought to be pretty easy.” She shot me a look that contradicted what she’d just said.

  “What? Have you had this guy stay here before? Is he a difficult customer?”

  “No, he’s never been a guest with us. And from what I’ve gathered from talking to his assistant on the phone, he’s a nice guy.”

  “Then, what?”

  “Okay, Penny, let me explain something. Have you ever been to Maui? You know, have you ever gone over there for a vacation or anything like that?”

  I nodded, afraid to even guess where this was heading.

  “Well, this isn’t Maui. We don’t have a zillion tourists, and we don’t have restaurants where they pin pictures of celebrities who ate there up on the walls. It’s part of the charm of Lana’i. We’re immune to fame.”

  I kept nodding.

  “The guy who’s checking in is from the mainland. From Hollywood. He’s coming over here to chill. To get away from the celebrity grind.”

  “He’s a movie star?”

  “Not exactly. I think he’s done some acting, but it’s always been in his own movies.”

  I stopped nodding and shot her a confused look.

  “The guy’s a producer. He’s the one who does the ‘Stony Jackson’ movies. I think he’s made like seven of them. His movies are really popular with inner-city audiences, and overseas. According to his assistant, they call him the male Oprah. Very rich, very connected, but very private.”

  I started back up with the nodding.

  “Anyway, the guy’s coming over here to get away from it all. He doesn’t want to stay up at the Four Seasons Lodge, and he doesn’t want to hang out at the beach at Manele Bay. He wants peace and quiet and total anonymity. He wants us to pretend we don’t have a clue who he is or what he does for a living.”

  “Got it.”

  “I promised his assistant her boss could absolutely count on us to respect his wishes. I haven’t even told Darryl who he is, only that he’s coming from Hollywood and he wants time to relax”

  She gasped and stood up. Her hands clutched the edge of the table as her mouth flew open as if she’d been zapped with a Taser. A puddle of clear fluid began to bloom on the hardwood floor between her feet.

  CHAPTER 4

  At exactly three o’clock my expected guest, Mr. Tyler Benson, came to the door. He’d arrived a couple of hours after Ewa and Darryl had left for the airport. I guessed his in-coming flight was probably the turnaround flight of the one they’d gone out on.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Benson,” I chirped as I opened the screen to let him in. “My name’s Penny Morton. We’re so pleased to have you as our guest at the White Orchid.”

  “Please call me Tyler.” He was tall, at least six-four. He had caramel-colored skin, with chiseled features that made him look more Denzel Washington than Will Smith. He wore a sage-green polo shirt that sported a discreet Pebble Beach logo above the pocket. As he looked around the shabby chic great room I was half-expecting him to say ‘never mind’ and head back out, but he didn’t.

  “This is perfect,” he said. “Is Ewa around?”

  “I’m afraid Ewa and Darryl have been called away to O’ahu.”

  Tyler looked stricken, as if I’d said I’d chopped them up and stuffed their body parts in the freezer.

  “No, actually it’s good news,” I said. “Their baby is coming and our little hospital here on Lana’i doesn’t do obstetrics so they went to Honolulu to have the baby.”

  “She didn’t mention that when I called.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. It’s been kind of hectic around here. The baby was due last week and she’s been so busy getting ready for her hospital stay and—”

  He cut me off. “It’s okay. I don’t mean to sound like a jerk. It’s just that my assistant said she seemed really nice. I was looking forward to meeting her.”

  “She is really nice. Both of them are.”

  “You like working here?”

  “I do. It’s the best job I’ve ever had on Lana’i.”

  “Did Ewa tell you what’s going on with me?” he said.

&nb
sp; “Uh, well, kinda. She said you’re looking for peace and quiet. And that you have a stressful job back on the mainland. And not to ask you about it.”

  “That’s exactly right. I know people are interested in the kind of work I do, but frankly, I need to recharge my batteries. I don’t mean to be rude, but if you don’t mind, I’d like us to remain simply innkeeper and traveler.”

  “Absolutely. No problem.”

  I showed him to his room and pointed out a few of the more esoteric amenities, like the hand-crank for the skylight window. Darryl’s list said to bring everything to the guest’s attention—the shower, the bed, the extra towels in the armoire—but it felt insulting to show a man like Tyler Benson how to operate a shower. Instead, I used the opportunity to point out what the room didn’t have—a television, a phone, or an Internet connection.

  “Of course if you need any of those things, we have them in the owner’s quarters and you’re more than welcome to use them,” I said. “But if it’s peace and quiet you want, this is the best place to be. No connection whatsoever to the outside world.”

  “I love it. Thanks.”

  I’d agreed to sleep at the B and B when there were guests checked in since Darryl and Ewa promised 24/7 service. I mentioned this to Tyler and explained that I’d usually be found either in the kitchen or the great room during the day, and I’d be in the far guest room after about ten in the evening.

  “Sounds great. And thanks for understanding my situation. I hate being the ‘special case’ guy, you know. I really love people and I love hearing about their lives, but for the next few days I need to focus on my own life.”

  “It’s very understandable. And anyway, my life’s pretty boring, so you’re not missing much.”

  I turned and went back out front. Tyler Benson closed the door to his room with a soft click.

  ***

  The next morning, I made Tyler oatmeal. I was embarrassed to serve it to him. I was afraid he might give me a WTF look and demand eggs Benedict or something, but he surprised me.

  “Wow, this is great. I haven’t had oatmeal in a month of Sundays,” he said. “My momma used to make it for us every morning before school. She said it would ‘stick to your ribs.’ Dang, I miss that woman. She really was somethin’.”

  He slowly shook his head as if taking a slow mosey down memory lane.

  “Well, to tell you the truth, I’m not the cook Darryl is,” I said. “He whips up omelets, homemade muffins, the whole nine yards. But I’m better with two-ingredient items, like oatmeal with cream, or toast and jam.”

  “You won’t get any complaints from me. I eat fancy food way too often, and it shows.” He patted what looked to me like rock-hard abs. “Every now and then it’s great to just dive into a big ol’ bowl of Frosted Flakes or Wheaties, you know?”

  “Yep. That’s how I roll, too. But this is a bed and breakfast, so if you want something a little more upscale, just let me know. Darryl has some pretty awesome recipes I wouldn’t mind trying.”

  I left him alone in the breakfast room while I went back to the kitchen to clean up. A few minutes later Tyler was standing in the doorway.

  “Can I help you?” I said.

  “It’s kind of hard going cold turkey like this, you know?” he said.

  I was confused. “Is something wrong?”

  “No, sorry. I was just thinking out loud. It’s so weird not to be watching two morning shows while thumbing through Variety and the LA Times. I’ve got a publicist who calls me every morning to give me the overnight news, and an assistant who goes over my schedule for the day. She tells me every call I’ve gotta make and where I’ve got to be every minute of every hour. Just sitting here eating oatmeal feels like I’m playing hooky or something.”

  “Would you like to get in touch with home?”

  “Heck, no. I’m not complaining. It’s just surreal.” He handed me his empty bowl. “So tell me, what do you do all day?”

  “Are you sure you want to ask me that? It kind of breaches the ‘innkeeper/traveler’ relationship, don’t you think?”

  “Ah, forgive me for the BS yesterday,” he said. “I was just being ornery. It was a long flight over and my pilot put the jet down a little hard. I’m not really into the Greta Garbo routine as much as I led you to believe.”

  I wasn’t following him. I must’ve looked confused because he went on.

  “You know, the silent movie actress who said, ‘I vant to be alone.’ Word around tinsel town is she was a real pain in the ass. Made a pile of money from her fans, then told them to get lost and leave her be.”

  “Well, I respect your desire to keep to yourself,” I said. “And, as I mentioned yesterday, my life wouldn’t make a very good movie script. Small-town girl working in a B and B on a tiny island in Hawaii. That pretty much sums up my existence.”

  “Well, Penny Morton, I find such an existence fascinating. Tell me everything.”

  I had to walk a fine line between honesty and safety, so I focused on my childhood. I told him I’d been born on Kauai to hippie parents who lived in the trees.

  “Like monkeys?”

  “No, like tree houses. It was illegal to camp on the beach, so the folks up in Taylor Camp—that’s the name of the place—built these elaborate structures in the trees so they could live at the beach and not get run off by the authorities.”

  “Taylor Camp?” he said. “Like Elizabeth Taylor?”

  “You got it. The land belonged to her brother, Howard Taylor. The county wouldn’t allow him to build a permanent house there, but they taxed him for the property. He got so fed up he bailed some ‘flower children’ out of jail for vagrancy and invited them to come and hang out on his property. This was in the nineteen-seventies. That’s where my mom and dad met.”

  “And you said your life wouldn’t make a movie script. I love it.”

  “Well, I guess it was fun while it lasted. My dad took off pretty soon after I was born. I have a half-brother who has a different father. We haven’t been in touch for a while. Our mom died when we were young and we were raised by her best friend, a wonderful woman we called Auntie Mana. She’s gone now too.”

  “So you were raised here on Lana’i?”

  “No, I’m from O’ahu. I’m a recent war widow. I came over here for a little change of scenery.”

  “Your husband was killed in combat?”

  “Yeah, in Afghanistan.”

  “Whoa, real sorry to hear that. My hat’s off to you, and to him. Our military families have really suffered these past few years.”

  I nodded. “Yeah. Well, anyway, that’s pretty much my story.”

  “I’d hardly call that a boring life. I have a feeling there’s more to it, but I’ll let you off easy. For now, anyway. You can tell me more later.” He gave me a wink. I couldn’t remember the last time a guy winked at me.

  “It seems kind of one-sided,” I said.

  “How so?”

  “Well, I literally gave you my life story, but I’m not supposed to ask you anything about your life.”

  “Ah, like I said, I was being a jerk. You probably know most of it already anyway. There’s not much the gossip rags haven’t splashed all over their front pages.”

  I thought it might hurt his feelings if I told him I’d never heard of him. “Uh, well, I suppose, but we don’t get much of that kind of stuff over here. Most of the time the only paper we see is the Lana’i Times. Every now and then a copy of the Honolulu Advertiser or The Maui News will show up if a guest brings it to the breakfast room.”

  “I’m liking this place more and more.”

  “Yeah, well one thing about small town Hawaii—we know everything about each other but we don’t care much about what goes on in the outside world.”

  He smiled and waved as he left me alone to finish up the dishes. When I went back out to the great room, I could hear him in his room talking on his cell phone. So much for going cold turkey.

  CHAPTER 5

  At ab
out ten o’clock that morning Tyler left in his rented Jeep. He didn’t say where he was going, and I didn’t ask. Actually, I was relieved he hadn’t asked me for directions or suggestions on what to do on Lana’i. I could tell he was a smart guy. It wouldn’t take much of my hemming and hawing for him to figure out I didn’t have a clue.

  I used Tyler’s absence as an opportunity to run by my house and check on things. When I got there, everything looked fine. I watered the two plants on the screened-in front porch and dug through the refrigerator sniffing the milk and tossing out lettuce that had gone from solid to liquid. Before I left, I picked up the land-line phone, half-expecting to hear someone on the line, but it was just dial tone.

  I sprinted back to the White Orchid and was dismayed to see Tyler’s Jeep parked in front. I’d been gone less than an hour.

  “Hey,” I said, as I came inside and saw him sitting in an armchair reading on an electronic tablet. “Is everything okay? You need anything?”

  He looked up. “No, I’m fine. I don’t need babysitting, you know.”

  I felt a flush rising in my cheeks.

  “Hey, sorry,” he said. “I realize you’re simply doing your job. But what I’m really enjoying here is the sound of the wind in the trees and no ringing phones. I promise to let you know if I need anything. And if for some reason you’re not around, I’ll leave you a note on the refrigerator.”

  The refrigerator in the kitchen had about thirty magnets stuck to it, from all over the world. It appeared either Ewa and Darryl were well-traveled, or former guests had sent mementos from back home.

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  “By the way, I’ll be driving up to the airport later this afternoon,” he said. “You need me to pick up anything? At the grocery store or what-not? I see you don’t have a car.”

  “You’re very observant. I take the shuttle if I need to get anywhere in a hurry or if I need to go down to the ferry at Manele Bay. Thanks for the offer, but I think I’ve got it pretty much covered for a while.”

  “Okay. Well, if you think of anything, let me know,” he said. “I’ll be meeting a three o’clock flight.”